


Every Rose

by PaperLaur (laurelofthestory)



Series: A World Called Terra [2]
Category: Terraria
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Developing Friendships, First Meetings, Gen, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelofthestory/pseuds/PaperLaur
Summary: He knew that none of the others trusted him, and things would only get worse if he told them of his predicament. So he kept it to himself - but what is he to do when someone finally bothers to ask? [Fan lore]





	Every Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted on Terraria Community Forums as part of my "A World Called Terra" oneshot thread, on October 28th, 2016. Posted to Fanfiction.net on January 25th, 2017.
> 
> Related to my longer-form Terraria fanfiction that I have not posted on AO3 yet, "The Twins: Test of Redemption." Goes perfectly well on its own.

How many times had it been by now, that he'd gone through the same pattern?

Heroes came and heroes fell, not one strong enough to make it all the way; to defeat the guardian, to free him from his curse, to release the spirits of light and dark. By now, he'd seen many try and fail. And he was tired, and sad, and a bit jealous.

Even the clothier - who also had a deal with a Lesser God-could at least have some semblance of freedom, at least for a while, even if when the hero died, his contract was to return to the dungeon to wait for another. A test of character and strength, of the hero's worthiness to face a new danger; just like hell's guardian, in a way.

The clothier tried to comfort him when he could, but truly, they weren't the same. And so he moved on alone, becoming attached to every hero who came despite his better judgement, feeling a little piece of what humanity he had left dying at the same time as each hero did.

After waiting so long, he could understand the underworld guardian's own bitterness, if it could be called that. Whatever 'emotions' had by the gods, even the lesser ones, were not things to be understood by mortal men - and in the end, he was only human.

Morning came on another day of a familiar cycle, and the man who called himself the Guide was up before the sun completely lit the land, before the armies of the undead had completely retreated for the night. This was usual for him, but as he went to the bottom floor of their small wooden 'hotel' of a base, he could see the merchant and the nurse already up - something decidedly unusual. Though not on a night like this, he supposed, as he waved to them disinterestedly and headed for the door.

No one in any given base ever got much sleep on a night the hero brawled with the Eye of Cthulhu.

Maybe it was the first indication for some of them of the true nature and horrors of this land and the gods that inhabited it. He didn't know.

The Guide peered out through the holes in the door to make sure the land was bright enough to deter the creatures of the night, before slipping out into the morning. He shut the door behind him, leaning his back against the wooden wall beside the door and staring up to the sky without really seeing it, contemplating.

Honestly, he was proud of this hero - a young lady taking the path of a mage, quiet but intelligent, fiercely independent, someone he didn't doubt could make the very gods listen when she spoke, her few words that powerful when they did come. She'd prepared for her duel for some time, worried that she wasn't going to be able to defeat the being she was about to summon. But as he'd expected, she'd slain the Eye easily, and with plenty of time and energy to spare.

Now came the start of the next part of the pattern. He should hear her coming over the horizon soon enough. They always came the day after the hero had proved their strength...

_"Who are you?"_

Surprisingly enough, the voice made a man who'd thought he'd seen everything jump in alarm, whipping his head around to see the source and throwing a hand over his heart. He hadn't heard a thing, and he liked to think he could hear a bat's wings at twenty yards!

"Gods above, you scared me."

_"Who. Are. You."_

This was certainly the woman he'd been expecting - that was obvious from the green hair and rather scant clothing of leaves. Though he couldn't help but notice a...difference in this woman that gave him slight pause, and he tilted his head, looking her over.

Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, laced with flowers and vines as the hair of most dryads were, though much more plain and practical. Her leaf-made clothes, too, seemed more for practicality than for decoration.

And her eyes were different from any dryad he'd seen. Instead of purple, they were the most bright, vibrant green he'd ever seen on anyone before, dryad or no.

The dryad must've noticed him staring, as her eyes narrowed and she raised what looked to be a Staff of Regrowth in front of her like a weapon.

"You are not the hero. Who are you, and where are they?"

"Oh - oh! Sorry - !" He found himself stammering a bit, glancing away and back towards the door, "I'm - ah - I'm their Guide, you know about us, right? The one who's supposed to know everything."

He managed a quick flash of a smile, but the look of death in her eyes immediately caused it to fade. "...uh..." What name was he going by this time? It took him a second to remember. "...Connor. Connor's my name."

"...Alalia."

"Alalia! Yes! Good to meet you! I figured you'd be coming any day now, considering the - "

_"Where are they."_

"Th-the hero! Right, they're gonna be right in here, but I dunno if they're getting some rest from last night...heh..."

He positively shrank under her gaze (something at the back of his soul seemed to be scoffing at his cowardice, but he ignored it as usual), sliding back towards the door and fumbling for the handle. He managed to open it inwards after an attempt or two, forcing a smile and gesturing for the dryad to come in. She didn't even glance his way as she walked in and headed upstairs, presumably to one of the extra temporary rooms the hero had prepared in case anyone else would be moving in.

The Guide found himself staring after her as she left, with a look that was a mix of puzzlement and indignation. Most of the dryads he'd met, while not exactly talkative, were significantly more polite than this. And the way she'd glared at him...

He was brought from his thoughts by the Nurse scoffing. "You don't look so good over there, _Mr. Security."_

Ah...that nickname made him wince. She'd started calling him that after one time his sleepwalking had gotten him outside...and left the door open for zombies. "I'm fine," he grumbled, running a hand through his hair, "Uh...I think I'm gonna go take a nap or read or...something. Can you tell her that the dryad's arrived when she comes down?"

He didn't wait for an answer, heading for the stairs with a certain apprehension clouding his mind.

The way she'd glared at him...it felt as if she'd been staring into his soul.

And his soul was a real piece of work, given his circumstances.

-:-:-

He'd helped the hero make heads or tails of the ore she'd gathered from the body of the great eye she'd fought, but other than that, the Guide did little for the rest of the day aside from reading in his room. He'd learned very early on that this group wasn't really one he could be too social with - another set of vendors that disliked him, which was pretty typical. He'd make smalltalk if the group was reasonably accepting of it, but after some past incidents, he didn't like taking his chances with it. At least the hero seemed somewhat appreciative of him, and she knew where to find him if she needed his help.

No, this was one of those groups he needed to stay out of the way of. No need to get under people's feet and risk irritating them. He'd learned that doing something like that could cause...problems.

The Guide had also been wanting to avoid the dryad Alalia and her piercing gaze - it was a little bit too much for him to handle at the moment. Dryads could be wildcards with how they reacted to him, he knew, but it seemed as if this one had been downright hostile towards him...

It was sunset, and the Guide was reading a book on Terra's magical weaponry when his door was kicked open. Jumping a bit in his seat, he looked up, adjusting his glasses on his nose only to find the one person he'd hoped wouldn't come looking for him. He winced, unconsciously holding up the thick book as if to shield himself.

"I demand to know what you are." Alalia's eyes were narrowed dangerously, and the staff was back in her hand. She had that analyzing gaze that made him uncomfortable again.

Guide shifted back in his chair, blinking several times. "What I am? I'm - I'm a Guide, I told you!"

She bared her teeth at him, "Your aura smells of brimstone and _rotting flesh._ You're not Terrarian. _What are you."_

Oh, that explained it...but wait, since when could people smell it on him? Guide set down his book and stood up, backing up a couple of steps. Alalia moved forward, standing between him and the door.

"I-it does?" he asked, stalling, "I didn't know it smelled...?"

She rolled her eyes, "It is not a smell as you understand it. It's a sense. All Terrarians can perceive it, and any mage can feel it coming off of you in _waves."_

"Any mage?...That...explains a lot..."

No one had ever told him that. The clothier had just sort of come up to him one day asking if he too was cursed, but he hadn't thought of how the older man had known to guess about it. And it explained why everyone seemed to immediately take a dislike to him, if they could somehow feel the aura of...that coming off of him.

"Answer me!" He jumped again, staring at Alalia in alarm as she approached with her staff. "Why am I feeling this aura from you?!"

He held up his hands, knowing he couldn't delay answering any longer. Usually, he only told the hero about this when the time came - he'd never told another one of the vendors, aside from the clothier.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. I'm completely Terrarian, I swear, I'm not a monster or anything! Some people think I am but I'm not! It's - augh - it's complicated, j-just...just put that down and I'll explain everything, all right?"

Alalia hesitated for a moment, staring into his eyes as if trying to gauge his sincerity. Everything inside of him was telling him to look away, but somehow, he stood his ground, until she shut her eyes and nodded, allowing the staff to clatter to the ground and showing her empty palms.

"...All right, 'Connor'. Tell me."

Guide bit his lip, moving to the table in his room and pulling out his extra chair for her. At her confused look, he gave a weak, awkward, nervous smile.

"Er...you might want to sit down. It's a bit of a long story."

_And maybe it'll give me an extra second to run before you strangle me as soon as I tell it..._

-:-:-

And he explained everything, as he had promised; how he had been chosen by the Elder Gods as a middle-man and mortal anchor for the guardian of Hell itself, how said guardian's soul was now irrevocably linked to his own and that's where the aura was coming from. He explained how he'd been doing his job for decades or even centuries by now, guiding the would-be prophesied ones until they succeeded or fell in their great battle with the Lesser God in the belly of the earth to test their ability to face what came next - and that in the end, his fate was to die, or be reborn again to guide another until one succeeded and was deemed worthy to face the true power of the ancient armies of the Lord of the Moon. And only then, he could rest.

He avoided looking at her as much as possible while telling his tale, but the glances he did take showed little - Alalia's expression remained stoic and neutral throughout, and it made him nervous. Did she not believe him? Did she think he actually was the demon itself?

"...I know it sounds crazy, but...anything involving the gods kind of gets weird," he finished with an anxious half-smile, "I mean, you're an emissary of the gods in your own way, right? You're magic."

Alalia frowned, and looked out the window. It had long since fallen dark, though the full moon lit the world outside well enough to see the zombies shambling into the walls and the demon eyes occasionally smacking into trees outside.

"I...I serve only the jungle. Not the gods."

Guide nodded slowly, "So you're...in some way, a descendant of the True Elder of nature? You know - that one that the Lihzahrdian people were worshipping until the war..."

She looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. "How do you know this?"

"Oh, er...like I said, it's kinda my job to know everything." He shrugged weakly.

Alalia shifted in her seat, huffing a bit through her nose before falling silent. The awkward moment stretched on for what felt like an hour to Guide before she spoke again.

"We served the jungle and the Hallowed Land. They were our allies. We both sought to purify the world. The Keeper of the Underworld took the Hallowed Land away from us."

"What?"

"I thought you knew everything." She looked back to him and rolled her eyes, though her expression was less harsh now. "...With the sealing of the Moon Lord's army of spirits, there was also an attempt to seal the Corruption and Crimson...This is why it does not spread nearly as fast as it did in old times."

"I understand. But what does this have to do with the Hallow?"

She winced, gaze dropping to the table. "The Hallowed Lands were seen as...an equal and opposite force to the corrupted places. It was judged that they needed to be eradicated to provide true balance, even if we all opposed."

"Oh..." That kind of explained why she'd reacted so badly to him. He rubbed the back of his neck. "But as far as I know, it doesn't exist anymore, and the corrupted lands still do."

"An oversight. The Elder Gods attempted to seal all of those corrupted places away, as well as all of the Hallowed Lands. They succeeded in the latter, but the former was too strong...The land vanished, driving the creatures there into a panic before they all eventually...died off, their souls joining all the others in the Underworld." She folded her arms over her chest, closing her eyes. "The jungle lost a land of valuable allies that day, as well as safety - we'd had an agreement that the Hallowed Lands would not encroach on our jungle and would protect us from the spreading corruption if it were to ever reach us, in exchange for our own help and resources...The corrupted lands could very well consume the jungle as easily as the pure forests, if they came near. And nature's protectors would be lost...Us, the Lihzahrdians...even our jungle's own guardians would grow ill and die."

Guide nodded, staring down at his lap. He'd heard of the ancient Lihzahrd people, but had thought the'd all holed up in their temple and had died there...He'd heard of the Hallowed Lands as well, of course he had. But he hadn't realized it had been quite this...serious.

"...I am sorry."

Guide blinked, looking up. "What?"

"This is not your fault. You are a victim of the Elder Gods just as we are. I had thought you were the guardian itself."

"You wouldn't be the first."

"And...we have a common goal. To see the Moon Lord defeated, and to see a return of our land to its former glory."

He nodded, solemnly. "That's all I want. I just want all this fighting and monster craziness to end. If I have to go through all this to make sure someone _someday_ does it, then, well...I'll wait as long as it takes, and I'll rest happily knowing I was able to help."

Alalia looked at him, not so searchingly, but more curiously.

"You seem a selfless man."

"I wouldn't say that. Not at all. I'm just...doing my job..."

Another few moments of silence, though this one was no longer awkward. Then, Alalia pushed her chair away from the table and stood.

"I must retire. It is late and I have traveled a long way."

"Okay, sorry for going on so long..." Guide stood as well, awkwardly dusting himself off and picking up his chair as he escorted Alalia to the door. When she gave the chair an odd look, he grinned sheepishly, "I sleepwalk. Blocking the door doesn't always help but...it's at least something."

"That would explain your healer's tales of you."

"Oh...yeah. She doesn't like me a whole lot..."

Alalia nodded, and turned away. Guide wasn't entirely sure of what to say in farewell, before something-a response to her story-abruptly slipped out.

"Hang in there."

"What?" She turned and stared.

"I, uh...you know. Just...hang in there. The prophecy says that there'll be a day when this's all gonna be over. We just have to hang on until then, right?"

Alalia looked away, and for a moment, he swore she smiled a little bit. It might've just been his tired imagination.

But before she shut the door and left him to block it with the chair, she repeated it back to him, in a voice so soft he almost didn't hear.

"You...'hang in there' as well, Guide..."


End file.
